Kitten gets a Kitten
by Anderida
Summary: Spuffy fluff. What effect does a tiny stray have on Spike and Buffy?
1. Chapter 1 New kit on the block

**Kitten gets a kitten - Chapter 1**

_Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, WB and Mutant Enemy, and were made flesh by the actors that gave them life. I borrow them here out of reverence, with respect and for fun, not profit. And if I owned Spike I'd never let him out to play with Buffy!_

Brushing vampire dust from her burgundy halter top and black leather jeans, Buffy straightened up and sighed. That staking had been all too easy and had done nothing to fill the hollow pit she felt deep within herself. Frankly, she was heartily sick of dusting fledglings and longed for a fulfilling fight with a master vampire worthy of her skill, strength and endurance.

She grimaced at the thought; she ought to be wishing for an easier life, not wanting to put her life at risk. But then that was the problem wasn't it? Life! She hadn't wanted to leave the safe, warm place she had found herself in after she had died, but her friends had torn her away because _they_ hurt.

The hurt they had sought to assuage was theirs, not hers. Bringing her back had been an act of pure selfishness and Buffy knew that at some level she could never forgive her friends for ripping her out of heaven. They didn't know what they had done, of course; they could never know. But she knew, and the thought of it killed her a little each day.

She stood surrounded by graves, wishing she was able to join the corpses beneath her feet. Is that why she wanted to meet a vampire worthy of her in battle, she asked herself? To send her back to the coffin she had clawed her way out of just a few weeks before? _'Oh god, Buffy'_, she wailed at herself silently, _'how have things got so fucked up'?_

Shaking her head to try to throw off the thoughts that had crept once again into her brain, Buffy did what she had done practically every night since she had returned from the dead, she went to visit the undead; Spike.

Spike had seen her when she first returned from her 147 day sojourn in heaven. He had seen her pain; he had shared her horror of breaking out of her coffin; he had understood. And now he offered her what she so desperately needed; physical release.

What she had with Spike, if she cared to think about it, which she _so_ did _not_ want to do, was not the slayer versus master vampire fight to the death that she craved. But it was its equal because each night that she tangled with Spike, half warring, half dancing, she died a little. This was not what slayers did. This was not what good girls did. This was not what Buffy did. Except it was what Buffy did now; she had sex with her mortal enemy.

Making her way to Spike's crypt she felt that her body was betraying her. How could it possibly be making her return to Spike night after night for this macabre dance? Why couldn't she just stay away? But even as these thoughts filled her mind they were pushed away by the memory of Spike's taut stomach, his pale, chilled, muscular chest and his knowing blue laser eyes, cutting into her core.

Rounding a tomb she approached Spike's crypt and stopped dead in her tracks as Spike's voice, soft, enticing, teasing, hit her like the flat of a hand.

"You're a feisty little kitten, aren't you? Com'on then, give Uncle Spike a big kiss."

_'Eww, gross, much!'_ Buffy couldn't breathe, her hands became clammy and she felt sick. Spike had another lover! It couldn't be Dru. Was Harmony back? No, it was someone new; someone to replace her, the slayer, in his arms, in his bed.

She reeled, steadying herself on the tomb alongside her. She felt faint and she knew she was stupid and weak. This was Spike, he meant nothing to her; now she could stake him without a shred of conscience.

As she grappled to get control of her mind and body, Spike's voice, louder now, rang out, "Slayer, don't just stand there, com'on in and meet kitten here."

_'Ohmygod, he wants me to meet his latest 'ho-bag',_ Buffy thought, alarm rising in her blood. She wanted to get away; she wanted to run; she wanted to be somewhere else. But part of her wanted to KNOW.

"Com'on slayer, no point in standing outside catching flies."

Buffy snapped her mouth shut. How did he know her mouth had dropped open? Damn his vampire senses. Damn his intimate knowledge of her, her feelings, her reactions. Damn him!

She moved tentatively towards the crypt door, which was slightly ajar, a feeling of dread growing in the emptiness inside her.

"Slayer, we haven't got all day. Get yer sorry ass in here!"

_'That's it, I've had it with this evil, self-righteous pig of a man, er pig of a vampire,'_ thought Buffy as she strode up to the crypt door and thumped it, sending it flying inwards, hitting the wall of the crypt with a sharp clang.

"Oi, slayer, 'nuf of the rough stuff. You're frightening her."

Buffy stepped over the threshold and blinked incredulously as hers eyes adjusted to the dimness and her brain adjusted to the image that emerged from the gloom.

Spike was crouched on the floor holding a piece of frayed string in one hand and clutching a small, black and white kitten against his chest with his other hand.

No mocking retorts, no sarcastic asides, no Buffy witticism. Buffy was stunned into silence as her brain felt as if it was bouncing off the inside of her skull like a boxer's after a paralysing blow to the head.

The tableau became real as Spike grinned from ear to ear and murmured quietly, "I told you, luv, no need to catch flies. I've got kitty here for that."

For the second time that evening Buffy snapped her mouth shut. Her brain now started to process the facts provided by her eyes, making sense of the information her ears had supplied before she had entered the crypt.

"Didn't think I had a doxy in here, did you slayer?" asked Spike as if he had read her thoughts, the satisfied glint in his eyes telling Buffy he knew she had, and he had planned it that way. Spike never left his door ajar, particularly when he might be expecting her to visit after her patrol as she had been in the habit of doing recently.

"You wish!" Buffy rasped angrily, but her reddening neck and face confirmed what Spike already knew.

"Hey, Slayer, it wasn't me who drew the wrong conclusions!" Spike's smirk and tilted head sorely pissing off the slayer, as she continued to blush at the reminder of her assumptions, and at the thought that Spike knew her well enough to taunt her like this.

Spike placed the kitten on the crypt floor in front of him, sat himself back until he was sitting cross-legged and motioned Buffy to sit down too.

"Come and meet kitty."

The short-haired kitten was mostly black, but had a white bib, neck and belly, and four white paws. The bottom half of her face was white too, with a cute little smudge of black on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were rimmed with black fur which intensified their vivid green colour. She was an adorable bundle of fur, stunningly beautiful and graceful, and, like all cats, she knew it.

Buffy moved forward and sat facing Spike and the kitten, mirroring Spike's posture. She held her hand out tentatively; the kitten sauntered up and sniffed the tip of Buffy's middle finger, and then rubbed her cheek against the outstretched hand.

"She likes you," said Spike, pride obvious in his voice.

"Where did you get her? Is she yours?" Buffy asked as she started to tickle the kitten under its chin, being rewarded with a small throaty purr and much head-butting, as the cat closed her clear green eyes in obvious enjoyment of the attention she was getting.

"I guess she's no-one's," answered Spike. "I'd seen her hanging around the cemetery for about a week now, noticed she was getting thinner and kinda reckoned she was lost. I asked around, you know, those houses that back on to the cemetery down at Lowther Street, but nobody knew anything about a missing cat. So I figured she might have been winnings from a demon poker game and had got away."

Buffy grimaced at the thought of kitten poker. Looking down at this little scrap of silky black and white fur, she couldn't imagine anything more barbaric than playing poker for kittens, and she had seen a lot of evil in her short life.

"Anyway, she was starving so I bought her back here and, guess what, she loves blood with Weetabix crumbled up in it!"

Another grimace from Buffy, this time accompanied by a shudder.

"So, are you gonna keep her, you evil, kitten-poker playing vampire?" Buffy asked managing, just, to keep a straight face. She took the string from Spike's hand and wiggled it in front of the kitten, who pounced, and started chewing and clawing the frayed end for all she was worth.

"I can't can I, luv?" Spike sighed and looked down at the playful kitten regretfully.

_'Ohmygod, he wants to keep the kitten',_ thought Buffy in amazement.

"I mean, I live in a crypt, the door's too thick to fit a cat door, I'm asleep all day, and I'm _so_ not doing the kitty litter thing."

"So, what are you gonna do with her, let Clem bet her on the next poker game?"

"Hey, slayer, I might be an evil vampire an' all, but I do have principles," Spike complained in a hurt tone. "I thought perhaps you could take her?" he raised his scarred eyebrow in his trademark way that he knew she found irresistible.

"What?" Buffy dropped the string like she just learnt it was radioactive, producing a tiny, plaintiff mew from the kitten, who stepped up to Buffy's hand and head-butted it.

"Spike, I can't! I can't look after a kitten. I'm the slayer, I have responsibilities, duties, people rely on me, I have to save the world, I ……." Buffy's hand was now rubbing the kitten's nose, then her forehead, then the top of her head, and then moving on to massage her neck before starting back with the nose rub to repeat the process, much to the obvious enjoyment of the kitten, who was now dribbling with delirium.

"Lil'bit will love to help. And cats take care of themselves for the most part. She won't be any trouble, and you've got Red and her pal who will help out too. So you having her is the only solution. I'd hate to turn her out and have her starve or get eaten by a fledgling or some'at." He looked at Buffy with doleful eyes, but couldn't hold the facade and broke into a wide, loveable grin.

"My god, Spike, you are such a user. You planned this. I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"So that's settled then, slayer. When you go tonight you can take her back with you and I'll pop in tomorrow to see how she's settling in." Spike leant forward over the kitten and pressed a light kiss to Buffy's furrowed brow.

"Com'on pet, you can play with kitty later. Now it's Spike's playtime."


	2. Chapter 2 Catnap

**Kitten gets a kitten - Chapter 2 **

_Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, WB and Mutant Enemy, and were made flesh by the actors that gave them life. I borrow them here out of reverence, with respect and for fun, not profit. And if I owned Spike I'd never let him out to play with Buffy!_

Spike had walked the tired slayer and the sleeping kitten back to Buffy's home just before dawn. He carried a bag with a small selection of kitten food and the bit of string the kitten had been playing with earlier. When they reached the back steps of Buffy's house he handed the bag over, brushing against Buffy's fingers as he did so. In spite of the intimate contact she and Spike had shared that night, this small feather-light touch sent a shiver through both of them.

"G'bye lil' kitty," Spike mumbled, "Don't forget your Uncle Spike, and don't give your new mum a hard time." He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on the kitten's head as she slept in the crook of Buffy's arm.

"G'night Slayer," Spike turned to leave.

"Spike," Buffy said softly, causing Spike to turn back and pause, his head titled to one side questioningly. "You know you can visit her anytime?"

"Thanks, Buffy." Spike smiled ruefully. Buffy realised he was actually going to miss the kitten. At first she was amused and wanted to laugh at the thought that a big bad like William the Bloody could get sentimental about a sweet little kitten.

Then she felt a different emotion altogether and she reached up and laid her free hand against Spike's cheek. She leaned up towards him and placed a tender kiss on his other cheek, then briefly touched her lips to his, before turning and walking into her home without another word.

Spike stood transfixed for a few moments, savouring the feeling she had caused to spark in his blood, and wondering what it meant, before he too turned and headed for home.

---------------

Halle, as the kitten had now been named, had already become a treasured member of the extended family at Revello Drive. Dawn had favoured the name 'Cordy' because of the kitten's propensity for chasing string, but a quick warning glance from Willow, fearful of reminding Buffy of Angel's latest companion, had led to a unanimous decision to call her 'Halle'.

Dawn and Tara were captivated with her and Willow felt indulgent of her best friend and her lover's fawning over the pet, although she was still a little wary about Spike's role in acquiring the kitten and his motivation.

Leaving Buffy to catch up on her sleep, with Halle curled against her ankles, the three other newly appointed guardians of the cute, tiny kitten took their leave to visit the large pet shop on the edge of town to buy the necessary requisites for their new charge.

Buffy dozed at first, listening to the soft nasal snoring of the little creature that nestled against her. The sound was hypnotic and Buffy readily drifted off into a deep, and for once, dreamless sleep.

Suddenly, Buffy was aware of a heavy weight pressing down on her chest, jolting her awake. Someone was in her room, by her bed, touching her.

"Oh, owww!" Buffy cried out as the weight shifted slightly on to her right breast causing her to flinch in pain. She wanted desperately to drift back into the haven of sleep but the pain was excruciating so she opened her eyes and raised her head off the pillow slightly.

She gasped audibly, as her hazel-green eyes met bright, round, lime green eyes looking straight back at her. Halle was sitting bolt upright on Buffy's chest, her head cocked to one side, in a strange reflection of a certain vampire's trait.

"Halle!" Buffy exclaimed, as she twisted her torso causing the kitten to jump off of Buffy's chest and on to the comforter alongside, still staring deeply into Buffy's eyes.

"What is it? What do you want?" Buffy asked the kitten, as if she fully expected the cat to answer her.

Getting out of bed, Buffy wandered to the door of her room and opened it. Halle immediately jumped off the bed and ran for the open door. _'Oh goody,' _thought a resigned slayer, making a mental note to ask Xander to fit a cat door, _'a comfort break!'_

Buffy followed Halle downstairs and into the kitchen. She opened the back door and Halle skipped out. "Five minutes, OK?" Buffy warned her before closing the door and turning to make herself a coffee.

A few minutes later, as Buffy sat at the counter sipping her caffeine fix, there was a scratching at the base of the back door. Buffy rose, opened the door and watched a satisfied kitten saunter in then sit down to wash her face with her paws.

Now that she was up Buffy decided not to bother trying to get back to sleep but promised herself a quick cat-nap (no pun intended, she smiled to herself) before dusk to ready herself for her patrol, and anything else that might come her way after dark.

------------------

That evening, as she dozed on her bed again before preparing to patrol, Buffy's mind went back to Spike playing with Halle as she had entered his crypt, and later before they had left to walk back to her house. He had clearly enjoyed teasing Halle, getting the kitten to jump high in the air, or crouch down wiggling her bottom, until she pounced and captured the frayed end of the string Spike was taunting her with. He was patient and gentle with her and Buffy had noticed he seemed to derive pleasure from stroking Halle's soft coat and tickling her under her chin.

This image jarred with Buffy's conviction that a soulless vampire was incapable of any finer feelings, being motivated purely by their blood which led to violence, murder and lust. Buffy's brow knitted with confusion, but as she sank into another deep sleep, she remembered that Hitler had loved dogs, so there was a precedent for evil things to love animals, after all.

Waking after dark, with a clear head and feeling rested, Buffy took a moment to wallow in the comfort of her bed before she would have to rise and shower. Her house was quiet except for a small purring noise coming from the bottom of the bed. Raising herself into a sitting position, Buffy smiled when she saw the tightly wound ball of black and white fur curled up on her comforter.

"Evening, Halle," Buffy murmured, as the kitten began unfurling until she was stretching herself into a thin arc of limbs and skinny body, showing off her bright white belly. Halle rose, stretched again, yawning, and padded up to greet Buffy. Their noses touched and Buffy began to giggle.

"D'you know, Halle, you are _soooo_ adorable. I've known you less than 24 hours and I am completely smitten. Hey, I'm smitten with a kitten!" There followed a mixture of giggling and purring as the two girls rubbed cheeks and head-butted each other. Buffy was the happiest she had been since she had returned from her stopover in heaven.

Buffy pondered why a little kitten could make her so happy when everything around her, no matter how pleasurable, just seemed to make her sad and lonely. She wondered if she had faulty wiring in her brain because she was a slayer, or perhaps because of the trauma of being pulled out of heaven. She didn't understand the reasons; she just knew how she felt.

She tried to think of the things in her life that gave her pleasure, and realised with a sigh that the list was very short. Because of her slayer duties, she didn't have time for hobbies or sports; in a way slaying was both to her. And while she resented having been 'chosen', having had this world-stopping responsibility thrust on her, she knew that she was good at what she did, and that thought pleased her.

And then there was this little black and white bundle, a waif from the cemetery, that had captured her heart.

"It's funny Halle," Buffy told the kitten, "but it seems everything I love is connected to cemeteries. I mean, 'love' and 'cemetery'; two un-mixy things. But un-mixy happens in Buffy-world. I battle demons and vampires in cemeteries and I love the fight. I find peace and solitude in cemeteries and I love the calm that brings. You came from a cemetery and I love you. Spike lives in a cemetery and I love him ….."

Her voice trailed off as she realised what she had said. Her hand clamped over her mouth at the horror and wonder of her statement.

_'Ohmygod, did I really say THAT?'_ she asked herself as she slumped back against the headboard of the bed. _'Why would I say that? I couldn't love SPIKE, he's an evil blood-sucking vampire. I'm the vampire slayer. It's not right.'_

Her mind ran through the usual excuses; he's evil; she's a slayer tasked with ridding the world of his kind; vampire's aren't capable of love; his interest in her is purely lust; her interest in him is purely release of sexual tension; she needs a relationship with a normal boyfriend to counter her unusual calling. She knew the drill by now.

But even as she tried to protest to herself, she knew that she had spoken before the truth; she actually loved Spike. And this wasn't the sort of love that was driven by his high cheek bones, chiselled good looks, broad chest, well-defined abs, ….. She stopped her thoughts there before they had a chance to go any lower and recognized that the love she felt for Spike was about all of him, not just his body, but his mind, his spirit, whatever it was that made Spike, Spike.

Barely able to focus, she wrestled with this new understanding. She knew now that Spike was no longer evil, and that it wasn't just the chip that had prevented him from killing humans; he didn't kill because she hadn't wanted him to, and now he didn't want to either. She had seen compassion in him. She had changed him.

Buffy's role as Slayer meant she should kill vampires, but her job wasn't that of a murderer, and to kill a vampire that posed no threat to humans would make her just that. That wasn't part of her calling.

And Buffy knew that Spike was capable of love; he had really loved Drusilla. She had seen it in his eyes when he spoke of her. They had been together for over a century and no-one would have put up with that mad, disloyal 'ho if they hadn't truly loved them. And Spike had cared for Drusilla; physically looked after her when she was ill or crazed. He had put up with her taunts and insults, turned a blind eye to her infidelities and just kept on loving her.

A small smile came to Buffy lips as she thought of Spike playing with Halle. Yes, he even loved cute kittens!

But how did he feel about her, Buffy wondered, wasn't it just about the sex, and perhaps the perverse notion of bedding a slayer? Even as she had posed the question she could hear Spike telling her over and over that he loved her, proving it beyond any doubt when he ignored her fists, her jibes, her cruelty to him. Now she felt chastened and ashamed when she thought of how badly she treated Spike, and how well he took her abuse of him.

Spike had been there for her when her mother had died, offering his support without strings. He had understood what she had been going through when her friends, those people she believed had loved her, were incapable of fully appreciating her pain. It wasn't just the pain of finding her mother dead on the couch, but the emptiness of knowing her lifeline was gone. Her mother had been her contact with the real world, the non-slayer world, and that had been ripped from her. The Scoobies didn't understand, even Giles didn't really. But Spike did.

And he had protected Dawn and watched over the Scoobies when they patrolled after Buffy had died. He hadn't needed to do that, but he had promised her that he would, so he did. He looked out for them out of love for her. She could no longer doubt it.

So what had she wanted from Spike, was it just the physical release his body could bring about in her? Buffy knew now that this wasn't the only reason she sought his company.

When something upset her, she longed to see Spike to tell him about it, to have him empathise and ease her pain. If she was pleased about something, she couldn't wait to share her good news with Spike, to see him smile at her, a genuine, warm smile reflected in his eyes, and congratulate her. To feel the heat of his affection for her that emanated from him, even though his skin was chill to the touch. It was a revelation to her that she actually enjoyed his company.

Confidences she would never disclose to her best friends, that she would barely even entrust to her diary, she readily shared with Spike without a qualm. It struck her as odd that this was the first time she had admitted this to herself.

When Buffy had come back from the grave, plucked out of heaven, who did she feel she could talk to about her experience? Spike. Only Spike would listen in a supportive, non-judgmental way, letting her rant, or cry, or just hold her tightly, gently, in silence, in his strong, protective arms. He gave her space to come to terms with her loss, he did not demand anything of her, did not expect her to act as though nothing had happened. His love was unconditional.

She could barely bring herself to think what would have become of her if she had come back to a world without Spike. It would have been too hard for her to have carried on. She would have sought oblivion. But Spike was there and he made life bearable for her.

Buffy felt she had allowed prejudices of her calling to cloud her judgement, particularly when it came to wanting a 'normal' relationship as a way of balancing her slayer duties. How stupid could she have been? How could she explain to a 'normal' boyfriend that she might rush off at a moment's notice to kill vampires? And her 'normal' relationships so far had been shallow and unfulfilling. Perhaps Spike had been right when he said she needed a little demon in her man.

_'No,'_ Buffy thought with a smile beginning to show in her eyes, _'I need a demon for my man.'_

She wasn't sure what she was going to do with her new insight, but she knew that after tonight things would be different.


	3. Chapter 3 Puss 'n' Boots

**Kitten gets a kitten - Chapter 3**

_Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, WB and Mutant Enemy, and were made flesh by the actors that gave them life. I borrow them here out of reverence, with respect and for fun, not profit. And if I owned Spike I'd never let him out to play with Buffy!_

After a while Buffy remembered the time and sighed. Scooping up Halle, she swung her legs over the bed and made her way to the door of her room.

Halle meowed plaintively. "Sorry sweetie, you've got to go while I get showered and changed or I'll never make it out on patrol. And I can't miss patrol tonight, not now I've finally figured out some things. Off you go." Buffy gave the little fur ball a push on her rump as she closed the door and headed for the shower.

----------------

Half an hour later, dressed in her tight chocolate-brown jeans and caramel wrapover top, Buffy started down the stairs to feed Halle and head out on patrol. As she approached the bottom of the staircase she froze as she looked on a bizarre, and frankly scary, sight in the lounge. Spike was stretched out on the lounge carpet, flat on his back, with Halle chasing up and down his chest attacking the buttons on his shirt. Spike was waving a finger enticingly under the edge of his shirt to encourage her to pounce. He was also making strange quiet little noises, halfway between a growl and a purr, which Halle was clearly delighted by. '_Yay, Spike!' _thought Buffy as she processed the endearing scene in front of her.

Suddenly Spike's senses kicked in and he sat up, spilling Halle on to his lap where she focused her attention on the end of his belt. Buffy continued down the stairs, a small grin creeping up on her.

"Buffy," Spike tried to sound casual, "Didn't see you there, luv."

"I noticed," Buffy replied, her grin now fixed from ear to ear. "No, stay there," she continued, as Spike made to get up, "You look way too comfortable and it looks like you and Halle are bonding."

"Halle, eh?" said Spike looking at the little mite that was now digging her claws into his thighs as she pounced at his belt tab.

"Yeah, team decision and she seems to like it." Buffy came over and knelt next to Spike as he settled back on his elbows. "Where's Dawn, did you see her?" she asked.

"She's staying at Janice's tonight." Then, seeing Buffy about to protest, "It's ok, I've checked with her mum. I looked out for her ok while you was away, didn't I?"

Buffy pulled a face and nodded. Spike continued, "I thought it best she stay at Janice's because Red and her chum are off to that concert tonight and they're crashing at some bird's place, from the coven, 'cause its too far to get back tonight."

"Oh," Buffy vaguely remembered Willow mentioning some concert or other but she hadn't thought through that it would mean leaving Dawn alone in the house for most of the night while Buffy patrolled. "Thank you."

"S'ok, pet," Spike flinched as small claws, like crampons, tried to climb up his chest. "You gotta lot o'stuff on yer mind."

"Yes, I have," said Buffy as she bent down and kissed Spike lightly on the lips, narrowly missing a swipe from Halle's paws as she tried to attack Buffy's hair.

Spike tilted his head to regard Buffy, with a puzzled look on his face. This was the second time she had kissed him without the excuse of her daily need for the relief his body gave her.

He knew she used him, that she didn't care for him, when she came nightly to his crypt. But he also knew it was his only opportunity to be close to the woman he loved, so each night he threw his pride down and let her trample it. But now the slayer was acting weird, out of character, and it was seriously wigging him out.

"You ok, luv?" he asked, his raised, scarred eyebrow punctuating his question.

"Never better," Buffy replied, sliding down to lay alongside him.

Spike laid back down, bringing his arms up and linking his fingers behind his head, trying to think why the slayer was acting so strangely. Halle leapt at one of his shirt buttons, causing him to hiss in pain as her claws penetrated his t-shirt and dug into his flesh.

"Oi, Halle, pack that in!" he yelled half-heartedly. Halle jumped down from Spike's chest and bounded down to teach his Doc Martens a lesson. Then, turning towards Buffy he asked, "You sure you're alright, pet?" She hadn't said a harsh word to him yet, and what was the kissing all about? And she was smiling: never a good sign. He was now feeling distinctly unnerved.

Buffy looked at Spike, her smile broadening across her face, and, what was that look in her eyes?

Spike, stared back into her eyes trying to read them, "You look beautiful, luv, really beautiful."

Buffy blushed and looked away. "Thank you," she said softly, "You're not too bad to look at yourself, Spike."

Spike's eyebrow hitched. "What's this all about, luv? You seem a bit …. different this evening."

"That's because I am!" she looked back into those deep blue eyes, and wondered why she had never really seen into them before.

"Has something happened, pet?" Spike, could see that look again in her eyes but he still couldn't interpret it.

Buffy giggled. "Yes, I have a kitten now!" Her gaze fell on the little black and white menace that was trying to untie Spike's boots.

"I know that, luv. I found her, remember?" Spike was worried now. Buffy was clearly losing the plot.

Buffy turned to lie on her side, facing Spike, and smiled indulgently at him, as one might to a small child. "Well, duh! I know that, silly. I meant Halle and I had a little conversation and she told me something!"

_'Oh no,'_ thought Spike as his brow furrowed, _'she's completely lost it. The strain of being dragged away from heaven, waking up in her coffin and fighting the forces of darkness has finally got to her. It's Dru all over again!'_

"Buffy, luv, why don't you give patrolling a miss tonight? I'll go on my own. You can relax and get an early night for once." Concern was written across Spike's face as he propped himself up on one arm while his other reached out to Buffy to run his hand soothingly up and down her arm.

"Oh, I'll patrol, but I like your idea of an early night. And we have the house to ourselves tonight!" Buffy said seductively. Then she started to giggle.

Now Spike was really worried. This was reminiscent of Dru's giggling fits over the decades, always when she was very distressed. Moving his hand to Buffy's cheek he tried to calm her hysterics.

"Buffy, I'm here for you, luv, I'll take care of you, promise. We'll see this through together. It will be ok."

The giggling stopped abruptly. Buffy stared at Spike, his face showing his alarm for her, and she realised, with a jolt, that he didn't know what she was talking about.

She raised her hand and placed it tenderly over the hand he was still holding against her cheek. "No, Spike, you don't understand. I'm fine. I'm way better than fine. I know I've been a bit un-Buffy since I came back."

Spike interrupted her, speaking softly but fervently, "You don't have to explain Buffy, luv. I do understand. Remember, I know what its like to claw your way out of a grave, pet."

It was Buffy's turn to interrupt. "Spike, that's not what I meant." She gently grasped Spike's hand and let it drop from her cheek as she swivelled round and sat up, folding her legs under her. "I was talking to Halle earlier and she helped me to realise something."

"She did?" asked Spike, not feeling even slightly reassured. He wanted to sit up but didn't want to scare Halle who was balancing on his shin waiting for his bootlace to attack.

"Hey!" Buffy looked indignant. "It's not what you're thinking. I don't do Dr Doolittle!" She pressed his hand between both of hers. "Halle woke me up and I was thinking about how she was found in a cemetery and then I realised."

"Realised what, pet?" Spike's frown had lifted a little but he still looked edgy.

"Something I was too dumb to realise before now." Even now, Buffy hesitated to say what was on her mind.

"If you've got something to say, you'd better spit it out, luv."

"I love you, Spike."

Whatever Spike had been expecting her to say, it clearly wasn't that. His features froze, unable to even register the almost overwhelming shock he felt at hearing those four, beautiful, words.

There was an embarrassed silence while Spike tried to work out if he had really heard what he thought he had. Buffy, on the other hand, wondered if she had actually said out loud what she thought she had, because Spike was so quiet.

Spike found his voice at last, "Did you just say that you, erm, love me?"

Buffy leant forward and placed a light kiss on his lips, "Yeah, that's what Halle made me realise when I was talking to her." Then to make sure there was no doubt she added, "I love you."

Spike heard the words, words he never expected to hear Buffy say, and he marvelled at them. Could it be true? Was that the look he had seen in her beautiful green eyes? Did he dare believe it was?

Spike leant down and scooped Halle up from her balancing act on his kneecap, the kitten having got bored waiting for the bootlace to move, and lifted himself into a sitting position in front of Buffy, holding Halle between them.

"So this little mite has got a lot of explaining to do," he said, a smile easing away his worried features.

"Well, she explained to me everything I needed to know," murmured Buffy as she leant forward to meet Spike's lips with hers.

Their kiss became an embrace, as Spike carefully placed Halle down to one side, out of harm's way.

Halle sat back on her haunches and looked curiously at the two nice people who were wrapped in each others arms, mouths locked together, oblivious of her blatant gawping.

She guessed that Uncle Spike had just become her Daddy.

Halle began to purr.

Fin

**A/N** My thanks to Joss & James for giving Spike to us. Couldn't have written this without you guys. Cheers!

Reviews always welcome.


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